


I am Yours (to Use)

by DyslexicSquirrel



Series: Salvation [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bucky is a succubus, Fluff and Angst, Gay For You, Happy Ending, Hey look I can write something without smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 00:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19841926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyslexicSquirrel/pseuds/DyslexicSquirrel
Summary: Steve woke up knowing there’s something—or someone—he needs to find.Or: The one where Bucky expected to never see Steve again.





	I am Yours (to Use)

“You look like shit,” Natasha told me Monday morning when she walked by my desk on the way to hers. 

I lifted my head to toss her a baleful glance before letting it drop back into the cradle of my hands. She was right; I did look like shit. “I feel like I’m still hung over.” 

“From when?”

“Saturday.” Letting my hands drop, I used them to push myself upright in my chair and swiveled toward my computer screen. 

“What the hell did you drink, absinthe?” 

“Beer,” I told her, pausing in the middle of entering my password. “I think. I don’t really remember drinking, to be honest.” 

“Let me guess,” Natasha said, sounding amused, taking a sip of her coffee before continuing. “You let Sam and Clint take you somewhere?” 

I grunted in reply. I couldn’t get actual words out since I was trying so hard not to yawn. When I woke up on Sunday, I felt like I got hit by a truck. My head pounded, my eyes were blurry, and when I got in the shower to try to burn the fog away with hot water, I discovered scratches all over my shoulders. I guess I pissed Goose off with my drunken antics once I got home? 

Of course, I couldn’t remember getting home. Couldn’t even remember where I’d been. I had to call Sam, who did not sound near death like I did—I hated him a little for that—to figure that out. 

“That dive in Brooklyn, remember? You bought us all beer and we beat you at pool. Then you shoved our asses in a cab. Clint is still passed out on my couch.” 

I had said, “Oh, yeah, sure. You guys really kicked my ass.” But I didn’t remember that. My debit card showed the charges from some place called the Turkey’s Nest, but what I couldn’t find was a charge for Lyft. There was nothing in my app either, so how the hell had I gotten home? I did remember enough to know I hadn’t driven to the city. There was no way I took a cab all the way out to the ‘burbs no matter how drunk I was and I wouldn’t have had enough cash on hand to pay the fare anyway. 

There was something prickling at the back of my mind, but the more I focused on it the more it slipped away. Guess I was taking a trip to Brooklyn. Maybe if I went back to the bar something would jog my memory. 

“Well, that was your first mistake,” Natasha said, pulling me back to the present. “You listened to those two idiots.” 

I finished logging into my work station, brows furrowing. “You barely know them.” 

Natasha made a noncommittal noise, green gaze fixed resolutely on her computer screen, while she drank her coffee. I’d known Natasha long enough to decipher what she wasn’t saying. I stared at her in shock. She simply set her mug down and absentmindedly tucked her hair, that she’d dyed blonde a few weeks ago, behind her ear. 

I blinked, dumbly. No way. “Since I know Sam is very gay and married, I know it wasn’t him.” Lowering my voice, I leaned across my desk. “You and Clint? Since when?” 

“Remember that barbecue you had?”

“Yeah.” I sat back in my chair, making it creak. That had been three months ago. And it hadn’t been  _ my  _ barbecue even though it had been at my house. Sam showed up with an apologetic, but excited Scott in tow, with grocery bags full of hot dogs, burger patties, and a bunch of other staples. Another attempt to get me to be social. 

And they all really liked my backyard. I’d put as much work into the landscaping as I had to the interior renovation. Clint, Natasha, and a bunch of other people I hadn’t seen since Peggy and I broke up started showing up. It was either let them in or look like a jackass. 

“Well, you were being boring and Clint made me laugh so we had sex in your bathroom,” Natasha told me, shrugging.

“Are you kidding me?” I hissed, glaring. 

She finally glanced my way, a smirk curling up her red painted lips, looking unrepentant. “If it makes you feel any better, we didn’t make a mess. He just bent me over the—” 

“Ah, ugh, no. No details. Which bathroom?” 

“The half bath on the first floor. Very cute tile work by the way.” 

“I’m never letting you in my house again, Nat.” I would be dousing every surface in bleach. If it hadn’t taken so much work to track down those antique tiles Natasha had admired, I’d demolish the whole thing. 

She snorted, but our boss walking off the elevator put an end to our conversation. Tony Stark had started this publishing house from the ground up with Pepper Potts, the woman he ended up marrying. Now Stark Publishing represented some of the most prestigious authors in the country and they were expanding into Stark Media Group—magazines, online publications, television and movies. 

Landing the job as head of the art department had been a coupe for me. I’d started here as an intern right out of college and managed to catch Pepper’s eye with my work by accident. Internship turned into full-time employment and when the promotion opened up, Pepper threw my name in the ring. Tony and Pepper were more than just my bosses now; they were friends. Long nights at the office getting covers and promotional materials just right had ensured that. 

Tony’s hand landed on my shoulder. “If it isn’t my favorite employee.” 

“Tony, you aren’t supposed to say that out loud,” I said, tipping my head back and smiling up at him. His slate gray pinstripe suit that probably costs more than my mortgage, the maroon shirt it’s paired with, the top button undone, and the striped tie that was just a bit loose made me feel underdressed in black dress slacks and a dark blue button down. 

Tony didn’t smile back. Instead he frowned, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. “Are you sick?” 

“No, just… drank too much this weekend.” 

“Poor baby. Who do you think you are, me?” Tony smiled, patted my cheek. “Lay off the hooch. I keep you around for that pretty face, you know.” 

I rolled my eyes. “And here I thought it was my artistic talent.” 

“No, that’s why  _ Pepper _ keeps you around.” In a stage whisper he said, “I just like looking at your ass.” 

“Ha ha. Get out of here.” I pushed him away. “Let me do what you pay me for.” 

“If you insist. Make sure our boy hydrates, Romanov,” he told Natasha before he breezed off toward his office. 

“Sure thing, boss,” she called after him. Turning wide eyes and a fake smile on me she said, “Drink your water, Steve.” 

“I hate all of you.” 

* * *

When the Lyft driver dropped me off at the corner of 12th and Bedford, I got out and looked up at the building, sliding my sunglasses off and tucking them into the open neck of my button down. None of this was ringing a bell. Not even a little. I had never been so drunk that I couldn’t remember  _ anything _ . Not even in college when I went to parties at Clint’s frat. 

Something was wrong. Really wrong. Had I been drugged? If that were the case then how had I gotten home? Because Sam and Clint hadn’t known. Either whoever slipped me something had dropped the ball and I got off lucky or… I had no idea. 

But someone inside might remember me. No time like the present. 

I pulled the door open, hit with that stale bar smell, the sounds of laughter and music coming from the jukebox. The place wasn’t overly full seeing as it was a Monday, but there were still people seated at the bar and the high top tables, blowing off steam and throwing back a few drinks after work. 

I scanned the room, taking in the faux wood paneling and icicle lights, hoping to spark some recollection, but nothing came. 

Not until I started walking toward the bar and a man came out of a back room toting a box on his shoulder, rolled up sleeves of his t-shirt straining around his biceps. Dark hair framed a face with sharp angles, stubble dotted his cheeks, and his eyes were the color of a stormy sky.

He froze when he saw me, eyes going wide, lips parting. There was—something—about him. An almost memory? A feeling of deja vu? Slowly, the man lowered the box he held, putting it down behind the bar, meeting me at the end where no one was sitting. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice hoarse. 

“I know you,” I said, brow furrowed. “I don’t—I don’t know how, but I know you.” 

“You need to leave.” He sounded urgent and ducked under the flip-up panel set in the bar top. He gripped my forearm, fingers brushing the bare skin below the rolled up sleeves of my button down. He tried to pull me toward the door. “You need to leave now.” 

I dug my heels in. The feel of his skin touching mine sent a feeling coursing through my body I couldn’t describe, but I’d felt it before. It was pain and pleasure; heaven and hell. 

Between one breath and the next, it unlocked everything I had forgotten. “Bucky,” I gasped, staring at him in shock. 

He stopped trying to drag me outside, head whipping in my direction, sending his hair flying. “How—”

“You okay, James?” 

We both turned toward the owner of the voice behind us. A dark-skinned man with a bald head glared at me with his one eye. Where the other should be was covered by a patch. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked more than willing to kick my ass. 

Bucky—James?—drew in a deep breath, eyes flirting to me before settling on the other man. “Yeah, Nick. I’m fine.” 

Nick kept glaring at me, but he said, “Alright, you let me know if that changes.” Then he walked off into the back room Bucky had walked out of earlier. 

Bucky leaned closer, voice pitched low for my ears. I could smell his skin and had to fight the urge to close my eyes and draw it into my lungs. “I get off in an hour. Meet me outside.” 

“What the hell is—” I started in an angry whisper only to have him cut my off. 

“Not now,” he gritted our, before his face softened along with the grip he still had on my arm. “Please, Stevie. Just give me an hour and we can talk.” 

He was pleading with me and for some goddamn reason I couldn’t say no. I sighed, pulling free of his loose hold. “I’ll be at The Bean down the street.” 

I turned and walked out before I could change my mind. 

Or do something stupid like kiss him. 

Especially when I still didn’t understand where that urge came from. Even if I couldn’t stop thinking about being in bed with Bucky now that I remembered it again. 

* * *

When Bucky walked through the door of the coffee shop an hour later, I was seated at a table sipping at an iced Americano, the remnants of a croissant on a plate in front of me. As far as dinner went, it wasn’t great, but I had time to kill and anything more substantial they served here had sounded like too much work. 

Bucky looked like sin in black skinny jeans, a tight navy shirt with the Turkey’s Nest logo printed on it, and a leather jacket slung over his shoulder. I was helpless to not drink in the way his body moved as he approached my table, letting my eyes give him a thorough once over. 

When he stood in front of me, I was just about eye level with his crotch before he bent down to brace a hand on the table. I remembered what was inside those pants and the fact that he didn’t wear underwear. 

I swallowed, meeting his eyes which were scant inches from mine. His lips were curved up in a smirk I found all together too attractive. What the hell was it about this guy? I’d never felt this way about a man before and it was as discombobulating now as it had been on Saturday. 

I’d been hit on by men before. I wasn’t conceited, but I’d been told enough times that I was attractive. Hell, the first time I met Scott he’d lamented at me being straight because I had the best ass he’d ever seen. “No offense, honey,” he’d told Sam right after he’d said it. 

“Oh, no,” Sam had said, not sounding the least bit upset as he slid his arm around Scott’s shoulders. “I had the same thought.” 

They thought it was extremely hilarious when I blushed at that. 

“Let’s go,” Bucky said quietly, tipping his head toward the door. “My bike’s parked outside.” 

I was snapped back to the present. Confused about this hold Bucky had on me and angry about it at the same time. He’d thrown my whole world upside down and now he was trying to dictate how this was going to go? “What I’m supposed to take you home so you can drug me and leave again?” 

I was not going to mention the fact that we slept together the last time he was in my house or that it had been the best sex of my life. 

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I did not drug you, Stevie.” 

“Don’t call me that.” Because I like it a little too much, I thought. 

“Fine. I still didn’t drug you.” Bucky straightened. “And trust me when I tell you that you do not want to have this conversation in public.” 

“You expect me to trust you? Seriously?” I tried to keep my voice from rising. People were already staring at Bucky, had been since he walked in the damn door. I didn’t need to add to it by shouting. “And there is literally no other explanation for what happened than you drugging me.” 

“There is,” Bucky said, leaning close once more. His hair fell forward, shielding his face, and when he looked back up at me, I jerked back so hard my chair almost toppled over. Bucky’s hand shot out to steady it and I sat there, staring into the black depths of his eyes. It wasn’t that his pupils were dilated; every other bit of color in his eyes had been swallowed up by inky blackness. “You just might not like it, Steve.” 

Bucky blinked and his eyes were back to normal. I inhaled and my lungs burned because I had forgotten to breathe. Bucky pressed his leather jacket into my nerveless hands. “Now put that on. It’s gonna be windy. And I’ll make a deal with you—I won’t leave your house until you tell me to. I can’t go back on a deal once it’s struck, Steve.” 

I nodded, feeling numb as I got up to follow Bucky outside. I slipped the jacket on, the leather snug across my shoulders, my movements feeling mechanical when I got on the bike behind him. I accepted the helmet I was handed and Bucky didn’t pull away from the curb until I had it buckled into place and my arms were firmly around his waist. 

What the fuck had I gotten myself into? I felt as if I just stared into the eyes of the devil, but I was more scared by the fact that I  _ wasn’t  _ scared of Bucky. I had a belief which felt innate that he wasn’t going to hurt me. 

* * *

“So,” I ventured, closing the door behind me, watching Bucky walk around my living room much as he had the first time he was here. But this was an inspection, where as before his movements had been imbued with seduction. Now, Bucky was just… looking. Taking in all the details. It felt more intimate. 

Bucky glanced at me briefly before resuming his perusal. I cleared my throat and took off his jacket, hanging it by the door before toeing my shoes off. “What did you mean you can’t back out of a deal once it’s struck?” 

I caught a glimpse of his exaggerated eye roll when Bucky looked up from the picture frame in his hand. It held a photo of Peggy and I on vacation in Napa Valley two years ago that I still hadn’t gotten around to putting away. Bucky placed it back on the mantle. “One of the Creator’s ways of safeguarding his precious mortals.” 

Oooookay, I would come back to that later because—“The Creator? You mean God?” 

“What you think of as God, yes. But the Creator is… so much more than what your kind perceives.” 

“Have you met him?” I couldn’t help but ask. I didn’t even know why I was accepting what Bucky was saying because it sounded, admittedly, a little crazy. But somehow I just knew. 

Bucky scoffed. “The Creator has no sex or gender. They are the energy that suffuses everything. And,  _ no _ , I haven’t met the Creator. A lowly succubus like me hardly merits an audience with the being responsible for the Big Bang.” 

“Wait, succubus?” I looked at Bucky more closely. He was definitely  _ physically _ male. Unless I was missing something… but I had gotten pretty up close and personal with his private bits. 

“A few things have gotten lost in translation over the years,” Bucky told me, laughing, eye crinkling at the edges. “Whether a sex demon is a succubus or an incubus has nothing to do with what’s between our legs.” 

I didn’t even want to think about the fact that he’d just casually thrown around the words ‘sex demon’ in the middle of my living room and he hadn’t meant it facetiously. “So what does it mean?” 

He plonked himself down on my couch, kicking his sock covered feet up on the coffee table. “Remember when I told you I was almost exclusively a bottom?” 

“Uh huh.” I did remember that, vaguely. I’d been a little busy checking Bucky out and trying not to come before we even got started to make much of it at the time. 

“The Latin word ‘sucubare’ literally translates to ‘to lie under’.” Bucky’s brows were raised expectantly. It hit me and I sat down heavily in an armchair. 

“Oh.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“And this whole sex demon thing?” It was hard to say the words out loud. “Is that why I…?” 

I trailed off, but Bucky didn’t seem to understand what I was asking. “Why you what?” 

“Why I was so attracted to you even though I’m straight?” I could feel my face flame. 

“You modern humans and your rigid ideas about sexuality.” Bucky slid sideways so he was laying down and rested his feet on the arm of the couch. He threw an arm over his face. “Makes me miss ancient Rome.” 

“Ancient… what?” He wasn’t seriously implying he was that old. Was he? 

Bucky ignored my comment, which was just as well because I don’t think I really wanted to know the answer. He dropped his arm, fingers brushing the area rug, and looked at me. “Humans have a little thing called free will. I can’t force you to do anything, Steve. Another protection from the Creator. If you weren’t already attracted to men,

you wouldn’t have looked at me twice.” 

I found that hard to believe because Bucky was so—much. How could I have not looked? And maybe that was confirmation of what he had just told me. I had been so wrapped up in trying to justify my attraction to Bucky by blaming it on drugs or demon magic or whatever, that I didn’t think about the fact that… I was attracted to Bucky. But still. 

“Why now? Why you? I’ve never even thought about dating a man before.” 

“Do you want to date every woman you meet?” 

“Of course not.” 

“There you go,” Bucky said, shrugging. My fingers twitched for my pencils seeing him laid across the couch like that. He looked good in my house, as much as part of me maybe didn’t want to admit it. He was still a demon, after all. “Maybe you just needed to meet the right man. Don’t think about it so hard, Steve. Who someone sleeps with is really not that big of a deal.” 

Tell that to my CCD teachers, the priest at the parish in Brooklyn I went to church as a kid. Bucky must have seen the thought in my expression because he sighed. “I can tell you, for a fact, that  _ God _ doesn’t care. No one Above or Below gives a shit who you fuck or who you love. Our views on gender aren’t even the same. And, well, not all demons look as human as I do. Angels sure don’t, those arrogant pricks.” 

So, basically everything I thought I knew about the world was wrong. I mean I wasn’t even a practicing Catholic anymore, but I’d grown up immersed in the teachings. I didn’t believe in what religious leaders or fundamentalists said about the LGBTQ community, wasn’t sure if I ever really did, but some of the things I’d been taught were more internalized than I thought. 

“So, are—are you gay?” 

“I don’t identify with that label, no. If I had to pick anything, I guess I’d say I’m pansexual?” He seemed to stop and consider it before kind of shrugging with his whole body. “It’s hard to categorize it from a human standpoint. But that’s close. Incubi and succubi are attracted to a human’s energy more than their physical appearance, sex or gender.” 

“You don’t think I’m physically attractive?” Why was that thought insulting? 

“I didn’t say that, Steve,” Bucky said, laughing, the sound deep and resonant. His eyes swept me lazily. “I’ve lived amongst humans for a very long time. I’ve come to appreciate your physical forms.” 

“Oh.” Was I blushing again? Damnit. 

“You’re cute, Steve, but what really made you so attractive was the energy I could sense in you. It was particularly strong.” 

“Energy? Like my life force? Did you shave years off my life or something?” Oh, God, stop panicking. 

“Stop being so dramatic. I’m a  _ sex  _ demon. Sex, Steve. I felt your sexual energy. I’m not some high level demon syphoning off your  _ life force _ ,” he said, mockingly, but also good natured. “Which, by the way, can only happen if you let them. By making a deal or some other very complicated things I’m not going to get into.” 

Well, that was… Oh. When Scott said I had Big Dick Energy I’d taken it as a joke, but maybe there was actually something to it? I was never going to stop blushing. 

“Is my sexuality really what you wanted to talk about?” 

I shook my head, trying to get myself back on track. “This is all a lot to take in, Buck.” 

“I know. And I wouldn’t be telling you any of it if you hadn’t shown up at the bar. You were supposed to forget me.” 

“You said that, after we…” I trailed off, meeting Bucky’s stormy blue eyes across the coffee table. He looked sad and tired. I didn’t like it. “After we slept together. What did you mean?” 

“It’s supposed to be a way to protect ourselves from discovery. Sex demons are more vulnerable than most and we’ve had a long history of being hunted down and slaughtered. We might not be the Creator’s favorites, but he didn’t want to see us wiped out. Now, whoever we feed from forgets about us after. I don’t know why you didn’t.” 

“I did, kind of,” I admitted. “I didn’t remember you specifically, I just knew there was something I was forgetting and things weren’t adding up.” 

“That’s just it, though. That shouldn’t have happened. You’re meant to wake up feeling hungover and brush it off. Even anyone you were with isn’t supposed to remember me.” Bucky sat up and stared at me in confusion and wonder. “I don’t know why you didn’t.” 

“I can answer that question,” said an unfamiliar voice. Bucky stiffened, I jolted, and we both turned to look at the speaker. 

An older man with graying hair and blue eyes, dressed in a suit, was standing casually between the living and dining room, like he had every right to be there.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked, standing up at the same time Bucky went to his knees, head bowed and said, “Master.” 

I looked at Bucky in shock then back to the smirking man. Where had he come from? And why was Bucky calling him master?

“Oh, you wouldn’t be able to pronounce my true name. For our brief interaction here, you can call me Pierce if you must address me at all.” He transferred his gaze to Bucky, tsking as he walked closer. “Why must you always cause me problems?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” Bucky told him, peeking up through a veil of hair. 

“Oh, I know. But you did all the same.” The man crouched down in front of Bucky, who was visibly shaking now, and cupped his chin. “You’ve always been my favorite, you know?” 

“Stay away from him.” I didn’t like this man. He felt wrong. And the fact that he was making Bucky uncomfortable and touching him? I liked that even less than I liked him coming into my home uninvited. Except when I tried to move with the thought that I was going to escort him out by force, the man held out a hand toward me, and I froze in place.

“Ah, ah. The superior beings are talking, human.” When he turned his head to look up at me, there was a red glow behind the blue of his eyes. I could have almost sworn my skin started to burn, but the sensation didn’t last long before he turned back to Bucky. “You have no idea what’s happening right now, do you?” 

Bucky shook his head as much as the grip on his chin would allow and I gritted my teeth. “No, master.” 

This Pierce guy, whom I was starting to strongly suspect was a demon of some kind (amazing deductive skills there, Steve) pushed Bucky’s hair away from his face almost tenderly. “Of all my charges, you were the last one I would have expected to find his  _ salvation _ .” 

The man spat the word as if it were disgusting, but Bucky’s eyes widened, touching mine briefly with a look of longing. “That’s not possible.” 

“I assure you, it is. And even I am bound by the Creator in some ways.” His hand moved to Bucky’s left arm, pushing the sleeve up to reveal the red star tattooed on his shoulder. The man traced it with a single finger and I fought against the invisible force holding me. “You have a choice to make, pet. But choose wisely because there is no going back.” 

Bucky’s breathing picked up as he turned his head, locking me in his blue gray gaze, searching. Whatever he had been searching for, whether or not he found it, Bucky’s expression went firm. He met Pierce’s eyes, steadily. “Do it.” 

The smile Pierce gave him as he presses the palm of his hand over the tattoo was sharp. “This might hurt.” The words are supposed to mimic an apology, but they came out as mean as the man’s—demon’s—smile. Black, curling claws erupted from the tips of his fingers and Pierce tightened his grip, digging them into Bucky’s skin. Blood welled up around the punctures.

I made a noise of protest when Bucky grunted in pain, but the man shushed me, not taking his eyes from Bucky’s. “Don’t interrupt, human. You don’t want me to break him by accident, do you?” 

I wanted to punch this guy so badly, but I couldn’t do anything except bite my tongue, while Bucky’s breathing became shallow and he had to use his right hand to keep himself upright. 

“Oh, it burns, doesn’t it? Having everything that makes you you ripped away.” Pierce’s hand tightened even more and Bucky collapsed against the floor with a shout. 

I couldn’t stay quiet after that, thrashing against whatever it was that bound me. “Leave him alone!” 

The invisible binds tightened further. I grunted, had to fight to draw in a deep breath. 

“He’s a strong one. Is that what attracted you to him, pet? Besides the obvious, of course.” Pierce brushed his other hand through Bucky’s sweat damp hair, leaning closer to whisper in his ear. He still made sure to speak loudly enough for me to hear. “It won’t matter in the end. In the end, you’re going to come crawling back to me and I’m going to enjoy making you beg and suffer for eternity” 

Pierce released Bucky, standing with a grace that seemed impossible for a man his age, but this wasn’t what he really looked like, was it? Bucky was shivering on the floor, curled in on himself, and the tattoo that had been on his shoulder was gone, nothing left behind but the blood from the puncture wounds. I was released from what had been holding me so suddenly, I stumbled, approaching Bucky once I’d regained my equilibrium. 

I dropped to my knees, gently rolling Bucky over until he laid half sprawled in my lap. He groaned, still shaking, eyes clenched shut. I glared up at Pierce, who was examining idly examining his now normal looking fingernails. 

“He’s your problem. For now,” the demon said. A snap of his fingers and then he was gone. 

He’s not important what’s important, though. Bucky’s face is still scrunched up in pain. “Bucky. Buck? Come on, open your eyes.” 

Buck groaned again, eyes fluttering open. He pressed a hand to his forehead. “Is this what it feels like to be mortal? Because it sucks.” 

“What?” 

“Can you help me to the couch? Sitting on the floor kind of hurts and this might take a while to explain.” 

* * *

Once Bucky was settled on the couch, spread across it lengthwise, with a pillow under his head, I got him a glass of water and sat down in the armchair I’d been in earlier. I pulled one of the questions weighing on my mind out at random. “Who was that?” 

Bucky carefully set the glass down on the coffee table. “Remember when you asked if I was in a gang and I said not the way you were thinking?” 

“Yeah?” What did that have to do with this? 

“Well, he’s the leader my not-gang. Former not-gang. A high ranking lieutenant in the armies of the Below and one of his perks is that he owns other demons. I was sold to him as an infant.” My eyes widened in horror, but Bucky waved it off. “Trust me, at the time it was… better. My mortal mother didn’t know what to do with a demon offspring.” 

“You’re half mortal?” 

Bucky nodded, wincing like the movement hurt his head. He rolled onto his side to look at me. “It’s why this was possible.” 

“Why what was possible? What did that guy do to you?” 

“He stripped me of everything that made me a demon. I’m human now.”

“How?” 

“I thought it was a myth,” Bucky said, smiling. “Demons who have a mortal parent all hear the same whispers, though. That the Creator gave us a way to find what’s called salvation.” 

“Okay, but what does that mean, exactly? And what does it have to do with me?” 

“You’re my salvation, Steve.” His gaze fell to the floor. “Or you can be if you accept me.” 

“I don’t…” I shook my head helplessly and moved to kneel in front of him, taking his hand in mine. I waited for him to look at me, but he didn’t. “I don’t understand, Buck. Help me understand. Please.” 

This felt like a monumental moment; a turning point. I needed to know what he meant. If by some miracle this meant he could stay. I don’t know at what point that became such a tantalizing thought, but I suddenly wanted it more than anything. 

He looked at me then, hand gripping mine tightly. “It means I made the decision to give up my demonic nature, and now it’s up to you what happens next.” 

“What do  _ you _ want?” 

“I want nothing more than to stay here, with you, but it’s not up to me.” I tipped Bucky’s face up when he looked down again, eyes boring into his. There was something big he wasn’t telling me here.

My eyes narrowed, going over his words again, looking at them from every angle. “And if I don’t want you to stay here, with me? Then what? Do you just go back to that Pierce asshole?” 

Had that been what the demon had meant about Bucky crawling back to him? 

“Not exactly.” Bucky swallowed hard. “I live out my mortal life and then Pierce gets to torture my soul for the rest of eternity after I die.” 

“What the fuck?” I exploded, pushing to my feet, looking at Bucky with a mix of shock and anger. “Why wouldn’t you check with me first before putting your goddamn soul on the line?” 

“Because I couldn’t. It’s supposed to be a leap of faith.” He laughed after he said it, but it lacked humor. 

He just told me his fate was in my hands and he had tossed it to me, hoping I would catch it. Knowing that if I decided not to he would face a fate worse than death. The way we met had been unorthodox. He was—had been—a succubus and I had never dated a man before, but it didn’t really matter. Because Bucky was Bucky. And for some unfathomable reason (or maybe not so much since  _ God  _ or the Creator or whatever had apparently set this all up) we felt right together. 

Sighing, I lifted Bucky’s head, setting it into my lap after I sat down. A furrow formed between his brows and I smoothed it away with my thumb. “I was just thinking about how good you looked on my couch before that jerk showed up.” 

Bucky blinked up at me in adorable confusion. “You realize what this means, right? I mean you’re basically my soulmate, but that doesn’t mean you have to—”

I cut him off with a kiss. It was awkward in this position and that otherworldly tingling sensation I had felt the last time I kissed Bucky was gone, but it was still wonderful because it was him. His lips were warm beneath mine, his stubble scratching my skin and it couldn’t have been more perfect. 

I kept it brief because Bucky still looked pale. “As long as you’re okay with sharing a bed with Goose, because he insists it’s his—and we’re a package deal—then I think you should move in.”

Was that moving a little fast? Perhaps because Bucky’s eyes went comically wide and he seemed at a loss for words for the first time since I met him… two whole days ago. “Uh… Your cat shouldn’t have an aversion to me anymore since I’m no longer a demon, so… If you’re sure.” 

“I bought this house always intending to have a family. I think, maybe, it was always for you? I know that sounds crazy—”

Bucky pressed a finger to my lips. “I didn’t know it, but I’ve been waiting millennia for you, Steve. Nothing about that sounds crazy.” 

“So you’ll move in?” I asked after taking hold of his wrist and lowering his hand. 

“I don’t own much in the way of material goods,” Bucky said, smiling up at me with mischief shining in his eyes, settling more comfortably in my lap. “So, I’m good here.” 

My answering laughter echoed throughout the house. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Happy Ending, but I think I’m going to end up writing a wedding eventually. Which will of course involve them having sex cause I like writing smut okay!?


End file.
